It Was Actually Happening
by Lana May
Summary: It's about a girl. Her sorrow, and her sex. Her journey to finally allowing herself to be loved by another. And Jason is just the right man to slap it out of her, with a force she'll emotionally crave. If you like Biker Romance/Drama/Erotica - then please give this a read. I've written an SOA story before, but I wanted one with all my own OC's.
1. Chapter 1

****This is a work of fiction.****

****Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the my imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.****

****Please do not distribute this work before contacting me. And refrain from duplicating my original characters. That just cheeses me off. :)****

******Warning! Explicit Content******

****There will be references to, and actual, non-consensual sex. References to molestation, and light BDSM. I apologise for any upset this may cause, but I'm warning you now. If you take offence to such things, including scenes of a sexual nature, swearing and violence - please do not read any further.****

**If you're still reading...**

**I hope you enjoy! :)**

** STEVIE**

_Present Day_

It never took very long for the nausea to set in, to be honest. This life had actually peaked, and I wasn't in the least bit ready for it to be the end. My body was exhausted with the monotonous life I lead but my mind was young, vibrant and ready to get the hell out of Dodge, but here I was. Sitting at my work desk, surrounded by people – that liked me, don't get me wrong – but still, I had this over bearing feeling that I was nowhere I'd ever expected to have been in life.

Jesus, does anyone really reach their true potential when their graced with such a fucked up parentage. And I know, everybody hits that time in their life when your 30th birthday looms ever closer, and you're suddenly smacked in the face - with a really hard fist - telling you "hey, times up, this is what you've made of your life, are you happy? Are you? Are you?"

No. Fuck you.

Of course I wasn't happy.

I was practically a virgin. And not just in the sexual sense. I was your bona fide novice with most things in life. I was just _really_ good at pretending. I could pretend I knew all about how to handle relationships but I'd never really been in one – one that counted anyway. Sure, I'd coupled with a rare few but looking back, I don't think barely legal one night stands, and ugly infatuations really cut the mustard. The last time I'd even resembled an attractive woman, was when I'd finally plucked up the courage to dance with that cute guy on the very edge of the dance floor, but it soon ended when he'd sauntered passed me, and headed straight for my friend. Luck of the damned draw, right? Was she even considered my friend if she happily accepted his advances? I've given up trying to work it out. I'd practically spent my entire young adult life as a permanent third wheel. How bloody embarrassing! And, you know what... I honestly don't know how it ended up this way. Where in the fucking hell did I go wrong? Who the hell had I wronged in another past life? Maybe it was karma? I don't know. God, she was a bitch, right?

I wasn't completely dire straits. I may be overreacting a bit. I did that. A lot. I'd had some fun. I'd mingled. I'd teased plenty of pricks, all in the name of innocence, because I'd never really had the gumption to follow through with my desires. I'd strutted my stuff too, but when your friends all hook up, and the babies start arriving, it's inevitable that you really have to start looking at yourself in the mirror. And it's awful when the reality hits you, and you really are the one left on the fucking shelf. All because you thought so lowly of yourself that you couldn't comprehend that somebody actually found you attractive. I wanted to be picked up from the shelf, Goddammit! I wanted some attention, and not the kind I'd had to bargain some of my dignity for. There'd been too many times that guys had assumed that friend zone, all because I couldn't ever suck up the courage, or simply because, they were too darned ugly. I was pretty, wasn't I? I wanted to be poached. I wanted to be loved. I wanted the drama. I wanted the arguments, the make-up sex. I wanted a real man. I wanted to be owned! Possessed even!

Was it really too much to ask for?

Or maybe I really did live in a fantasy world? Oh shut the fuck up, and let me dream. It was a damned sight better than my reality. Speaking of which...

"Do you think you'll be able to make those reports read right? I've been staring at them all day, but I know you're good at that stuff, so... would you mind, Nix?"

_Yeah, I'd bloody mind. You get paid more than me, yet here I am – with more skills than your right finger. _

"Yeah, I'll take a look for you..." I smiled pleasantly, expectantly, at my desperate-looking boss because that's what I did. I always fucking helped. "...but don't forget I've got all of Janet's work to cover as well. She's on holiday remember! But, just... yeah, give me 'til the end of the day. I'll see what I can do okay?"

At first my bottom lip had drooped as I stared at my boss Paul, because the audacity of the man always astounded me. Expecting me to work miracles whilst juggling my own oversized workload, plus another team members that had called in sick for the umpteenth day.

Why didn't _I _just call in sick? I'd get paid for it. I'd been at the company a fair while to be considered a part of the furniture. But alas, I never wanted to let anybody down. Was that a character flaw? Is that why I was still left on the shelf? Jesus, so many questions, and yet so few people to give a damned shit.

Paul couldn't organise a piss-up in a brewery but he was nice. An over-excitable child, about 5 years older than me but he was friendly and likeable. Loveable even. Dammit! I guess I was staying late tonight after all.

I really had no idea my life was going to take such a drastic change of direction, but apparently it was.

**STUBS**

_4 years before present day_

That sound always jerked my heart, even though I'd been behind these bars longer than originally sentenced, it still got the ribcage rattling when the iron gate clanked shut behind me, though. The cell was comfortable. I'd had certain luxuries that weren't necessarily prohibited but that's what time had allowed for. That's what brotherhood granted me. A rocky road of brotherhood to say the least, but shit, I'd stay my whole life behind these bars if that's what was needed.

Time had given me that bitter taste in my mouth though. It wasn't like I had the freedom to right my wrongs, and if I was given the chance to, I'd probably never make it two steps ahead before I'd chicken out and run for the hills. Even thinking about my girl's face choked me up, and that was something she'd never have believed in a million years either. If I ever had the guts to show her that was. God, I was a shit father.

I'd been hard-faced, too stoic and possessive for far too long with my youngest daughter's life. She'd fabricated a lot of hate for me because of it. Oh, fuck it – who the hell was I kidding? I deserved every bit of hatred she had for me. I'd always loved that pedestal I rested on when she was a kid, but hell – it hurt like a mother-fucker when I'd come crashing down. I loved her too strongly. I protected her too fiercely. And apparently, that sort of love damaged young girls. I'd not seen or heard from her in 8 years.

She was still my baby girl though. Shit, how old was she now? How old was her sister now? Jesus, I'd really fucked up. After all I'd done for them. After all I'd _been_ doing for them. Neither of them gave me the light of day. Yeah, so it seemed I was bitter about that. Any father that gave a shit would be bothered, right? And oh God, I really gave a shit. I really, really did. I loved them with all my heart, but being in that shitting brotherhood was probably the first nail in my coffin. I hadn't realised until it was too late. I was sucked in too deep, and it had taken a lifetime to find freedom.

If only my girls were surrounded by the brothers I had now. They'd have never gone without, and my youngest would have had no bastard try touch her. That arse-hole was lucky I only exiled him. That event had broken me. Broken my belief in the solidarity I thought was paramount in brotherhood. If he'd actually touched her, he would have been dirt deep before the next sunrise. But thank whatever Gods watched over me that day, my baby girl was none-the-damned-wiser. Too young to comprehend that shit. At least I had hoped she was.

Death's Dogs were the lowest of the low. And looking back on my life now, God - I was really ashamed to admit I loved the Dog's at one point. They'd been my whole life, I'd even lead the fuckers but being State side, and meeting Ted had changed my view completely. The brotherhood of the Dogs was a very low comparison to what it was like within the Hell's Hounds. They knew true friendship. What it meant to be family.

I'd jumped ship. Been a Hound for the last 7 and half years, and it was too bad a chapter like the Hell's Hounds never graced the shores of sunny England when I was a boy. I would have prospected my heart out for a club like that but it was the Death's Dogs that sucked me in. How on earth I managed Sergeant at Arms at such a young age, I'd had no idea. Wait. Yes I did. I was a ruthless bastard, a requirement that fitted the bill perfectly and it was a natural fit. Being President however, was not!

A shit storm had been brewing from the summer of '98, and it wasn't until a few years later – after the deaths had simmered down – that I was voted in as President of the Death's Dogs. It all happened by chance, I was convinced – at the time – that the only reason I was voted in was because I was the only original one left. All the old bastards that were there when I prospected had long since past, and after the turf war lead to the execution of my friend – and President – Jimmy Shire, I was the only one that bared the battle scars and was able to grow a fucking beard.

Being President wasn't all bad though. Of course it wasn't. We ruled the south-west coast and protected our way of life. The wife had been along for the ride – back then – and my daughters were what changed me for the better. I was a young father at 18, and I'd resorted to prospecting to make ends meet but Jimmy had seen something in me. I was bumped to Sergeant at Arms within the first 5 years of owning my top rocker. Looking back now, I realise it wasn't much to do with the fact Jimmy had liked me personally, it was all because blood never bothered me. I'd be the first in and always the last out; body parts trailing behind. It really was a way of life – that you could either handle or not. It certainly wasn't for the faint hearted. This life was rough. On everybody.

My daughters mother, my wife back then – _still_ my wife in fact, at least I'd not received notification of such a change of heart – had been the rock of the club. The Death's Dogs cherished her. Shit, I still thought about her in this cell. She had the best butt I'd ever seen in her trade mark tight dark jeans, and I'd spent – correction, _still spent_ – a lot of my time here using images of her from my memory bank. She had a rack to die for. Oh, and fuck... she was a great mother too. Yeah, I can't forget that. Jesus, I missed her. Her name – Jules – was carved into the cinder block of my cell. Cliche I know, but it was the thing to do. Men before me had etched countless names in the walls of my cell and I'd felt obliged to carry the torch.

Haven't heard from Jules in 8 years either. Was she really still my wife? Fuck, I hoped so. I'd kill the mother-fucker she laid with whilst I rot in this damned hole. Fuck the biker prison clause, she was mine and nobody else's. It was an awakening thought from memory lane, as I propped myself against the wall beside my bed.

"Stubs"

I heard the light whistle in the dark, and I blinked through the misty blur of night when my name was whispered from down the row of cells. I lightly whistled back my awareness and then watched as the guard walked solemnly passed my bars, flicking in a screwed up piece of paper. That was Russell 'Rusty' Buyers; a regular runner for the club: a good kid. He'd often work the night shift on guard duty when Teddy required it.

The note was from Teddy too.

'It's bad news my friend. Dyno knows!'

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

That mother-fucker would be the end of me. I needed to get the hell out of this place, back to England, back to my girls, my wife... and back to what I should have done the first time Dyno crossed the line. Where the fuck was that time machine?

**STEVIE**

_Present Day_

My following day at work hadn't been any more eventful than the day before. I'd finished the overload of work that my boss had winged my way the night before, and I'd briefly contemplated hitting a pub for a drink afterwards to wind down. But shit, I didn't do that sort of thing. At least, the new me didn't.

I'd been stuck in this rut for 8 bloody years, but the east coast of England was nice. The scenery didn't much differ from the south-west, and it did _feel_ like I was at home now. I just _knew_ that it wasn't. My love for family kept me focused I guess. Last night – with my mum – had been difficult. I still lived at home. Yeah, that's right – nearly 30 years old and I still rocked the terrace house with my Mummy. How fucking sad!

I'd got home from work, and it wasn't much different from any other night except – now my mum was more freaked than usual. She was convinced she saw that same damned rider cruise passed the house and at snail speed no less, and now she spiked with adrenaline that scared the shit out of me. I was glad for my job. Getting away from her anxiety was a godsend. I was easily pulled into her bubble of despair, and quite frankly I was kinda hoping that what she saw was real. We needed some damn drama in our lives. Our pitiful, boring lives needed the thrill of bikes again.

Jesus, Mary and Joseph. I really missed that part of my life. It wasn't beyond lost on me how unfair and ungrateful I sounded, especially when I hated the very person that brought that part of my life alive. Where the hell was he anyway? The last mum had told me was – 'business' – and, well, it looked like business for my father was a hell of a lot longer than most folks. Fucking arse-hole! Deadbeat piece of shit.

Life had been mundane since mum woke me and my sister in the night. Whispering like a crazed ghost as she pleaded with us to follow her to the parked Warrior, and evidently – get the fuck out of town! Maybe my life had been somewhat sheltered before that night 8 years ago. Maybe I was a little spoilt and worshipped but I wasn't fucking stupid. Mum had finally grown the brass balls required to run like the wind away from him. I felt liberated for her – back then, at age 21 – I was enthralled by the excitement of it all. Now, not so much. I missed the Dogs terribly. I still didn't understand why nobody called us. How lonely, after a lifetime of solid family!

Today was it though. I'd had enough of staring at my friends lives and wishing it was me. The clock hit five-thirty and I sure as shit wasn't going home. I'd been invited by friends to attend a house gathering. Exciting stuff.

My friend Jessica – who lived with her 2.4 children – always invited me for tea every so often. I think it was just out of pity, or she really was just showing off her house and wonderful life, I couldn't make my mind up on that one. Fuck! I'd become so cynical and bitter. I seriously needed to get laid or something, because I really was feeling depressed about my life. My friends were nice people. I was nice with them too. We really were good friends, it's just sometimes, your inner bitch really shines when you're constantly surrounded by shit that you crave for yourself. Jealousy was ugly!

Coming out of work, walking in the car park straight to my car – I heard the thunder of the bike before I saw it. It blasted passed my work in a flash of dark black, and the dude was clearly over the speed limit – but that was half the thrill wasn't it? Grinning like a Cheshire cat, my head down watching my feet walk to my car, I felt like I knew a secret nobody else knew. Like my mind was the only mind capable of understanding how it felt to be on the back of one of those machines. Damn, I was such a dork!

**AN**

**Please review - beautiful people. You keep me inspired.**


	2. Chapter 2

Idling in the traffic just at the end of the industrial estate that housed the giant factory I worked in, I pumped the music – classic 80's hair music – out of the plastic speakers. I was too cool for school these days. I didn't give a shit what people heard me listening too, and that was the beauty of getting older. I had no fucking shame.

It wasn't until I turned toward my friends house that I was able to see the gigantic queue of traffic before it was too late to turnaround and try another route. Being stuck in the home-time traffic sucked balls, but I had a grin on my face because I knew a delicious lasagne waited for me at Jessica's house. She worked part time – lucky cow – so I knew tea would be waiting for me on the table. Door service. Brilliant. Friends were the best sometimes.

My grin soon faded though. I'd only moved inches in the last 20 minutes and the rest of the journey wasn't looking good. I continued to text Jessica my miserable dismay, and in the end told her to freeze the damn food for another day – as soon as I was able, I'd be U-turning this joyride back in the opposite direction. I just needed a break in the two way traffic system. Eventually an opening appeared just a little further up, and I spotted my escape route. Swinging into the driveway I held my hand up to the driver that let me pass him, and then it all got confusing. A car wanted to come out of where I was trying to get in, so I angrily spun my wheel and dove across the traffic to the next exit I saw. Luckily the man that had let me cross him before, still waited patiently and I smiled brightly at him as he smiled back. What a nice dude. Cheered me up at least.

Well at least until I nose dived the curb and heard the scrap of my bumper. Jesus fucking Christ! I heard the chipping of my paint work hit the tarmac and I went beetroot red as waiting traffic watched my fuck up. I'd lost the plot by then, and literally plummeted for the familiar opening of trumpet bushels that edged the driveway to the Mole's Nest. I swung in, and it happily provided me the comfort of shade as I parked up in a secluded section of the not-so-busy pub forecourt. I turned off the engine, and pretended to be exactly where I wanted to be in case any onlookers wondered why I looked so out of place.

The Mole's Nest wasn't exactly a pub regular people frequented, at least that's the impression it held. I'd never attempted to visit before, although I'd often driven passed it. There were flower baskets hanging from the buildings edge but the flowers were long dead and I looked at the windows to see if there was actual life inside the boxed building. It could have been closed down for all I knew, it was as dim as hell. To my shock, a man did exit the entrance and he stumbled toward the opening I'd just driven into. Jesus, what a fucking dive!

It was now or never. I got out of my car, swung my bag over my shoulder and hustled toward the entrance. I wasn't getting anywhere soon in the traffic that still hummed behind me, so maybe it was about time I grabbed the proverbial bull by the horns. I needed a bloody drink. And quick.

The entrance was just an old wooden patio door, caked in crusty green flaking paint that had certainly seen better days. I didn't mind though. It was the smell that hit me which somehow made me feel right at home. A couple of strangers eyes drifted my way, and it wasn't until I looked behind the bar that I saw the friendliest looking eyes in the world.

"You looking for anything in particular love?"

Hell, he sounded adorable – a little rough around the edges but his glassy blue eyes were a wonderful sight as I hitched myself up on a barstool that actually looked brand new. Part of a potential refurbishment, I wondered.

"Do you have a glass of lemonade please?" I squeaked, and then watched as he slowly lifted a glass from the shelf before I finished my sentence.

"The names Richard..." he smiled as he poured me the drink. "... but my friends call me Tike"

"Tike. Nice to meet you. My names Stevie." I grinned.

"Stevie? Ain't that a boys name?" Tike questioned.

"Yeah..." I squished my lips together in earnest and explained. "... I guess my dad really wanted a boy. Either that or my mum couldn't stop listening to Fleetwood." I laughed, rolling my eyes playfully. I'd heard it all before.

"You like 'em too?" Tike asked, raising his eyebrows in surprise.

"I liked them enough that my dad and his friends called me Nicks. I think it wasn't until I used my Barbie doll as a microphone for Edge of Seventeen that it stuck. Even 25 years on and the name has stayed with me. My friends call me Nix too." I smiled, in offering. I hoped he'd used my nickname, the name Stevie was just plain weird.

"Well Nix, can I fix you a real drink – you look like you might need it love?"

Oh man, now I really felt like shit. Nothing worse than somebody pointing out how rough you looked – doubly worse when you'd only just introduced yourself. "yeah..." I groaned. "...splash in some of the good stuff." I pointed out the bottle of Southern Comfort.

For some unknown reason I was grinning like I was having the best time of my life. Maybe I was? It had certainly been a long time since I'd dared to do anything without assistance. Tike had been a pleasure to talk with. It was a good two hours since I'd walked in, and I'd struck up a few conversations with the people Tike pulled into our debates. I could get used to this place. I felt comfortable, and it wasn't lost on me, that it was because I was the only female casing the joint. No girl could ever deny that being the sole centre of attention was kinda sweet. Even if it was only old buggers that spoke to me, I still enjoyed being the focus of most conversations that sprang across the length of the small bar room. If I was anything, it was honest.

Some of the bars company had eluded me though. From where I was sat I could see a pair of boot covered feet that crossed over each other as the owner was secluded around the corner. I'd seen them fidget every now and again, and I'd wiggled on the bar stool a couple of times to try and politely peak around the edge of the wall, but I couldn't see anything. I wondered who it was. Was he hiding from everybody, or just me?

It wasn't long before my phone buzzed again, and Tike watched me fiddle with some buttons and ignore a response.

"That thing has been rattling for the last hour love. You have a better place to be?" he asked.

Not unless you counted wishing on a time machine to take you back to what you knew best; I had nowhere else I'd rather have been right now.

"It's just my mum. Turns out being almost 30 doesn't stop your mother from worrying about you..." I gulped awkwardly as I met Tike's eyes in explanation. I'd sounded a little contrite with my inner thoughts and I felt guilty for sounding so ungrateful, I knew there were far worse off people than me in the world. I knew that. "...it's nice that she cares though. It's just sometimes, I need my space, you know what I mean?"

"That I do little lady. That I do. How long are you drinking? I see you pull in with your car. You know I can't let you leave in that right?"

Shit.

What had turned out a spontaneous arrival, the almost three hours that I'd sat here for hadn't gone without drink. It was nearly 9pm and to be fair, this whole evening had been a little out of character for me. At least for the new me. The old me would have been a regular in these surroundings but doing it alone had somewhat lost it's edge of fun. Now I was just a sad loser, like the rest of the punters that idled around the bar. Most of them loners - like me - just like the guy with the boots. The guy that I still hadn't got a look at. Dammit!

I watched Tike's eyebrows raise in question as I still contemplated an answer for him. I sipped my concoction of mixed spirits, and immediately felt the rush of heat hit my chest. I think I was a little tipsy and it made me not have a care in the damned world. About bloody time!

"You know what Tike..." I giggled. "...I only work around the corner. I might just set up camp here tonight and waddle off to work first thing tomorrow morning. You reckon they'd even notice I was in the same clothes? Probably not, I barely even notice myself these days." I cracked up laughing.

I just didn't have the right answer for him. I didn't know what I was going to do. I couldn't drive my car that was for sure, and I just wasn't ready to face my little dilemma yet. I was content with where I was for a change.

**TIKE**

Tike smiled. If anything he'd detected a hint of pain that laced her vocals. He'd never seen her before – in the flesh, at least – and if he was honest, it was nice to look at a pretty face instead of the wrinkly regulars he usual served. He still wasn't going to let her drive home though, no matter how she tried to act the sober one. He briefly wondered if Wolf would let her go anyway.

"You let me know when you're ready to hit the road. I'll call you a taxi sweetheart. I ain't the type to let a young girl loose with a head full of alcohol and a flair for trouble. I saw the way you drove in here..." he chuckled. "...like a bat out of hell, and your bumper didn't look too good either."

**STEVIE**

What the bloody hell was wrong with me? I sucked up my bottom lip, and straight away felt my eyes watering. Thankfully no tears dripped, and I'd hoped he'd put my glazed eyes down to the drink, but in all honesty, I was embarrassed. It'd been a long time since anybody had called my number out, and I'd forgotten that most barmen could read a customer's story just by looking into their eyes. Damn philosophical barmen!

"Ha, well. I won't be causing any trouble in here Tike. You're lucky you've only witnessed my erratic driving. You wouldn't want to see me 10 years ago. I'd 'ave been dancing on this bar top by now..." I quipped as I made a motion to stand up from the stool. Just about ready to get out of this conversation before anything else focused on me.

I loved talking, I loved sharing opinions of everything and anything – that wasn't directly about me. "...I'm gonna make myself comfortable over in the corner. I'll call myself a taxi later, don't you worry about me. I can take care of myself." I smiled with a soft chuff of laughter.

**TIKE**

Tike watched her wiggle her way around in the half booth that she'd chosen to settle into. The booth was in the very corner of the room, and it had high walls around the back and to the sides. She'd clearly chosen that seat to keep herself to herself. Luckily the booth faced inward toward the room, and he was able to clearly see her if he walked to the other end of the curved bar, pretending to wipe down the beer taps.

He hadn't intended on upsetting her, but he'd seen the glint in her eye when he'd half-heartedly mentioned she was trouble. It was just an expression. Obviously a bad one! He could see how she hitched her elbow onto the table to try and hide her face away with her hand. He'd pressed his own lips together in remorse when he left her be.

Walking back toward the middle of the bar, he watched the entrance to his watering hole with a squint of his eyes. Another customer broke through the haze of smoke that still lingered in the air. An illegal linger since the no-smoking rule hit, but his place was so small on the radar his customers never quite grasped the new rule in public places.

He waited to size up the new arrival when he watched the young lad, that had entered, zip up a hoodie that looked slightly awkward on his body. He'd clearly had something bigger on underneath. What the fuck was he hiding? His eyes cased the joint, scoping for someone - with a helluva purpose etched on his face. Tike already knew he was too damned old to get involved with anything heavy. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had to break up a confrontation. He was the wrong side of 65, maybe 68 – he'd lost count of his years!

**STEVIE**

I wasn't that upset, it was more nostalgia than anything. Tike had made me feel so welcome but I'd managed to let my hair loose – figuratively – and now I was just left to reminisce on the days long past. I was sucking on my straw when I'd watched Tike saunter back toward the other end of the bar. The booth I'd picked was a little way off from the rest of the room but I had a clear shot of my previous stool at the bar. Seeing Tike's steely eyes watch the entrance that was out of sight to me, caught me slightly intrigued. I tried to sit up a little straighter so I could see the entrance but I couldn't crane my neck anymore without breaking it. In the end my eyes darted back to Tike as I saw his head whip to the dark corner of the bar – suddenly watching something else.

I was definitely interested when I finally saw the owner of those booted feet I'd been trying to see since I spotted them an hour into my arrival. Jesus mother-fucking Christ! I even watched Tike's Adam's apple bob in his throat as I found my own mouth drying instantly with the view that now transfixed me. Was it too cliché to sound out that I'd never seen a more sexual human being in my entire life?

He was tall, like really tall. He had to be at least 6 foot 3, maybe 4 inches. His shoulders were broad, and his skin. Holy Hell. He must've had some black parentage because his skin was a permanent tan, and he had arms that twisted with taught muscle. I focused more on his face when I finally pulled my eyes away from his strutting demeanour, and then, well then, I almost slipped off my seat.

His fucking hair!

It was black, maybe dark brown – no wait, I saw some golden slithers too – and it was fairly long. I'd _just_ caught the length before I watched his fingers rake through the sides as he quickly bunched up the mid-length strands and rapped it in a band he'd pulled from his wrist. Wrists that I could see now were covered in leather support straps. Now I could see his face. Fuck!

He was beautiful.

It all happened so fast but us girls always managed to capture every damned detail, right before you realised your jaw was hitting the floor. It took me a moment to gather myself and I gripped hard around my tall glass of spirits, and then his beautiful face was gone. I was no longer able to see him as he walked passed the side of Tike's bar and fired toward the entrance with what looked like a dark face of anger. Jesus, he looked pretty mad. I didn't even get to see his legs, the bar obscured most of him and I would have taken a bet that he was wearing leathers. Was that even cool these days? I'd seen his t-shirt though. A badly faded black colour that now looked grey, and I could've sworn I saw some kind of thin material scarf, maybe a bandana around his neck. I hadn't missed the mumble of words in Tike's direction as he'd walked passed him either. God, did Tike actually know this dude? He was bloody gorgeous. Something told me though, that maybe he wasn't the type of guy who heard that a lot. I chuckled to myself as I imagined slurring all over him. Pathetic! Get a grip Stevie!

**AN**

**Hope you're sticking with me ladies (and dudes, I guess :) ) The smut will come.. I promise. **

**Please review. It makes me smile, and I'll always send a note back for your time. **


	3. Chapter 3

**JASON**

She'd looked pretty sad to me. The whole time I'd been watching her, I'd only seen a real smile when she was singing away in her car and somebody caught her at the traffic lights. She _had_ looked ridiculous, all the same – but she was pretty cute. A button nose, and legs that didn't seem to quit. I would tap it given the chance, but I had a job to do, right?

I'd been watching her for about nine weeks, and to me, this shit was just classic babysitting. It had been borderline boring, so far. I'd only been on the English shores for about 3 months, trying to get away for a bit, but fuck it all to hell; I'd been called up for duty. Riders went nomad for a reason; I hated that feeling of restriction that belonging to a chapter sometimes brought. As soon as I'd landed, Kurt had a job for me. Great!

And here I was.

It wasn't until a few nights back that I'd been given more intel on this situation. Some fucked up shit about dudes gunning for her. And they'd wanted me to step up the protection. But I hadn't done fuck all since watching her, so I wasn't exactly confident these threats were credible in the first place, but I'd still do as instructed. Kurt owed me fucking big for this shit. I was bored fuckless.

I couldn't believe she'd actually walked into the place I was staying. I was about ten minutes out from leaving to stalk her ass some more but she'd stumbled right to me instead.

Sweet.

Following orders and keeping a low profile. Almost waiting in the wings for the inevitable to happen. And tonight, looked like the right night. This guy had looked the type. They'd taken longer than I'd thought to make a play, but I'd settle it without a hitch. I was sure of that, because the little fucker was barely out of diapers. How the fuck he was top rocker material I had no idea but then again, how other clubs ran their shit had nothing to do with me. Yet here I was, and here he was. Could smell the little shit from a mile away. Reeked of a kid willing to prove himself, and that right there scared the crap outta me.

I'd been hiding most of the night, not having expected her to enter the pub so now I had to remove myself from the shadows. Dealing with this punk wouldn't take too long though.

I coiled my legs back in and pushed myself up. My fingers immediately plucked at the band that wrapped around my wrist over my leather wrist strap. I'd walked into the dim light of the room now, and I nodded curtly to Tike as I scrapped my hair back; banding it in a tight knot behind my head just above my neck. I always pulled it back for business.

"I'll take care of this Tike. I'll keep it as clean as I can."

**TIKE**

I returned the nod given to me, and I watched with a slight grin hitting the corner of my lips. This would be very interesting. The guy I'd befriended went by the name of Wolf. And it looked like he'd picked up the scent of the bad smell that now walked into my establishment. I was glad for it. It'd been years since I'd had to escort out trouble on my premises.

Nobody else had been pulled from their own conversations in the room, or even understood what was about to transpire and I'd sooner leave it that way. But I found my eyes quickly glance toward the booth where Nix had plopped herself. I knew she'd been unable to see the entrance to the bar from where she'd sat but that hadn't stopped her from craning her neck to watch Wolf. It was hard not too. He was a big lad.

**JASON**

I practically bulldozed my clinched fists into the upper collar of the hoodie he'd chosen to hide his cut. Stupid fuck! I didn't want to give him the chance of seeing her, and the only way I was going to achieve that was full frontal attack. I crashed him back through the door he'd walked through, and within minutes my height and weight had allowed me to shove him so hard that his ass now balanced on the edge of the outside picnic table. He'd grunted his disapproval and I took a step back allowing him space to assess the situation. Giving him the decision to either walk away, or throw the fuck down.

"You got no business here kid. Go home."

"I just came inside for a drink man. What's your problem? Don't touch me again, you hear?"

"So that's how it's gonna be? You gonna play dumb?" I raised my eyebrows and instantly saw his own scrunch up in question to me. I didn't have time for this.

"You're a long way from home, so it sounds. Why don't you head on back there, Cherokee!" he spat at my feet.

Fucking asshole!

If there was one thing I hated. It was little punks that goaded me like a red flag to a bull. Fucking Cherokee? I was half Samoan, half Maori, dumb fuck! Born on the 50th United States star, and proud of it. I was easily rattled though; my short fuse sparked immediately. It was half the reason I'd needed a little road time under my belt in the first place. Bosses orders.

"That's one, kid. Make another mistake, and it'll be your last tonight." I grit my teeth with trying to calm myself down.

And there it was.

I even felt my pupils dilate the moment I watched him zip down his hoodie and expose his cut. He had no patches of significance, and I couldn't even see a road name but I'd seen the fire behind his eyes. He probably had no real idea why he was even sent to the Mole's Nest. Maybe he'd been given instruction to scope out the wider area and he just so happened to cop a big winner by stumbling on the one place I'd happened to be.

Shit.

With me up in his personal space, it'd only cemented the fact that something _was_ hidden away inside – and that 'something' was what nobody else was allowed to touch. By President's orders.

This little shit was probably promised an outer seat at the table for his efforts tonight. Efforts that I was about to smack the fuck down.

And I did.

If I'd given away my position, then so fucking be it. This shit was bound to kick sooner or later. Why fucking wait?

His hoodie dropped to the floor and I never gave him a chance to raise his balled fist before I cracked my own straight into his nose. I heard the familiar pop as my ringed fingers snapped the bridge of his conk. His arms jiggled to his sides as he looked to convulse in his chest, a shudder left his lungs as he controlled the instinct to shout out. He was trying to act the man, but I knew fucking different.

I didn't waste my time allowing him to recover. Gripping roughly at his cut covered shoulders and then slapping one hand around the very back of his neck, I yanked him forward. My knee connected directly into his stomach and I knocked the wind right outta him.

It was insulting they'd sent such a wimp, or maybe all the club members were like this overseas? That would teach him to almost spit on my damn boots. Fuckwad!

"Get the fuck up outta here, kid. You plan on staying, and you'll be leaving without that cut. Think about that for a little bit" I warned him.

Any club member, no matter what club you belonged too, or affiliated with – you took a man's cut, you'd better take his life with it. There was no greater embarrassment than letting another man – or woman – take your colours off your back.

My stern warning had given the upstart a moment to pause. Cradling his broken nose, as blood dripped onto the concrete, I raised an incredulous eyebrow as I jolted forward to emphasis my intention to follow through. He soon found his legs, and he jogged away but not before the threat.

"You better watch your back, you bastard! We're watching your every move!"

Yeah, yeah, I'd heard it all before.

Jesus, this place was a like a fucking playground. There was no order, or no respect. Didn't he know I belonged to one of the biggest motorcycle clubs in the world. We had chapters globally. I guess it was too bad we only supported England with a nomad President, and a few stragglers that felt like a change of scenery. I was one of those stragglers at the moment.

I looked down at my knuckles as I pulled back the entrance door. They barely had a scuff, just a bit of blood from the nose of the punk outside. A drag of the hand to the side of the thigh easily removed the stains as I went to stand in front of the bar. I watched as Tike pulled me a pint, and I dipped my head as I took the first sip. The foam lined my top lip, and I hummed at the taste.

"It's good stuff Tike..." I licked my top lip and grinned. "...you might want to get another room ready. I'm gonna have to call in some support. You okay with that?"

"When?" he asked. He looked compliant enough.

"Not sure yet. I'll make contact later. Just make sure they've got a room to call home, yeah?"

"Okay, how many?"

"Two, maybe three deep." I explained, and then watched as Tike's eyes wandered to the end of the bar.

"Do I gotta worry about kidnapping here?" he asked.

I cracked a laugh, in fact, I couldn't stop chuckling even when I took a quick glance to the booth and saw a pair of feet – bare feet – tapping away on the pub carpet floor.

"What ya' sayin' Tike? You think I can't charm that piece of ass to stay with me willingly?"

"I'm saying. She's a good kid. And maybe you could use some lessons in courtship. You've been stalking her arse for weeks. If you like her, speak to her, son."

Poor Tike. He didn't quite understand what I was doing here but he'd somehow surmised that I'd liked the girl. I had previously shown him the printed picture I carried of her when I arrived. Fuck, that was about 2 months ago! It had been worth a shot to find out if he'd seen her around town before. He hadn't. It didn't matter. I'd found her anyway.

But now. I guess Tike was right. If I was going to watch her ass why not watch it closer. Better yet, why not see what that ass looked like naked. I was all over that shit.

"She tell you how she's makin' it home?" I asked, still sipping my pint. My plan of approach hatching in my mind.

"Taxi. Not sure when though." he replied.

"Give me what she's drinkin'..." I muttered, and then produced a brilliant smile just for Tike. "...I promise, I'll be a good boy."

I don't think Tike realised how easy this would be. I had no shortage of pussy willing to jump my dick, and I sure as shit didn't think this girl would be much different. I caught myself short though. I briefly wondered if I was allowed to. My instructions were curt.

Find the girl. Keep the girl.

I just wasn't sure what I could do _to_ the girl. Fuck it. No instruction. No foul. She was fair game until otherwise notified.

**STEVIE**

I was having a good time. Alone. Jesus, how depressing!

I'd plugged in my headphones to my phone and I listened to the local radio whilst I sat on my lonesome in the booth. It still beat being at home with my mum though. I could already hear her belly-aching over something ridiculous.

For about 2 weeks now she'd been watching out the crack in the curtains. Convinced we were being watched, but I'd just lost interest in her concern since nothing had jumped out in front of me. I guess I could understand her worry. For about 8 years we'd been in hiding. At least, that's what I'd guessed. She never really gave us the truth as to why we'd hauled arse out of Devon. She'd told me and my sister that it was time to leave, that our welcome was outstayed. I was just happy to get the hell out. Dad hadn't come back from his business trip in months, and I whole heartedly believed the arse-hole had finally flown the coop with that pussy he slapped behind mum's back. Fuck! I hated thinking about him. He didn't deserve my attention one little bit.

"This seat taken?"

I'd just taped my fingers on the table, drumming away to Hammer to Fall when my table was overshadowed by my boot covered mystery man.

Holy fuck!

He had said something, I'd seen his lips move but the radio still played away through my ears, and honestly, I really don't think I would've been able to function properly anyway. The dude was bloody gorgeous! He had these hooded eyes. Penetrating. Animal-like.

Act cool dammit, act cool!

I smiled and pulled out my earpiece, fumbling with my phone to turn the music off completely.

"Um, hey... what's up?" I gestured and found it increasingly hard to look at his face. He was embarrassing me just with his attention all up in my grill.

"This seat taken?" he asked with a smirk.

"Oh um, yea. I mean no. I mean whatever."

I'd lost my mind.

I didn't know how to answer his question because my mind played tricks on whether he was inviting himself, or whether he was just asking that question as a fact. Yes the seat was taken – by me. Did he want to sit next to me? My mind couldn't compute.

I watched him place a tall glass – that looked remarkably like the drink I'd been gulping all night – in front of me. He wedged his arse on the other end of the half-moon seat and now his scrumptious face was eye level with mine.

"I figured you could do with another drink." he said, nodding toward the glass.

I took it from him, and my fingers unintentionally caught his retreating hand. As they brushed, our eyes connected and I couldn't hold back the smile.

"Why thanks."

And that was it.

I didn't know what else to say. He just sat there, staring at me. My eyes connected with his, but he'd been looking at me for so long I lost my bottle and looked anywhere but his face. This was probably the most awkwardest moment of my life. Who the hell was this guy?

I pressed my lips together and smiled as I squeezed my shoulders inward. A suggestive shrug of my shoulders, as I then popped open my mouth with all intention to speak but it all went pear shaped. My eyes darted side to side as I lost any kind of normal approach. It was happening. God. I hated that feeling. The feeling of control as it slipped away. I looked fucking stupid.

It didn't take long for me to recover though. I fathomed immediately that he must've just needed a seat, and there was no way he was interested in me – that way. Guys never fucking were. Especially guys like him. What was he? A fucking model?

It was how I'd learnt to cope, though. I didn't love myself enough to comprehend that somebody else would. Most girls were like that, weren't they? My defences were restored, and I powered through my awkwardness.

"You from around here?" I asked.

"Nope" he said. And that's all he said. Was he making this awkward for his own benefit? What was I supposed to do with that? His clipped response only spurred me on. If I got annoyed, then I knew I could hold my own.

"I can see you're a man of few words. How's that workin' for ya?"

He grinned, and Jesus – as if his eyes didn't just blow-up my insides. My ovaries actually hurt. Was that even possible?

"I do a'right. You fixin' for a guy tonight?"

Oh. My. God.

He actually just said that.

My mouth dropped open, but then I grinned. I couldn't _stop_ grinning. What the hell was going on? He was smiling too, watching me, watching him and then I burst out laughing.

"Jesus, you're a bit forward aren't you?" I managed.

"It's the best way to be darlin'." he said whilst taking a chug of his pint.

"Well, it's certainly an ice-breaker, that's for sure..." I laughed. "...and to answer your question. No. I'm not."

"Too bad. That man over there was asking me to set it up. He's a catch."

I raised my eyebrows and watched as he pointed behind me. I immediately followed his eyesight, and craned my neck around the back of the booth. The guy he pointed at was 90 years old to the day. He had his hand around an empty pint glass, and he was slouched over with his chin touching his chest. The dude was out cold. We both now watched as Tike approached him; muttering some obscenities as he tried to wake him up. It looked like a practised event. Probably a regular that Tike took care of every night. Poor thing.

Wait.

Was my booted friend saying that's all I could get? A 90 year old drunk!

I spun back to face him, and laughed the customary gesture, but I wasn't going to kid myself. My back was up, and it wasn't very funny. I knew this guy was too good to be true.

"Funny." I said.

"I thought so" he returned.

"Have you got any place better to be?" I asked.

"Nope"

Jesus Christ! This guy was too elusive for me.

"Wow. You're a real conversationalist. Don't let me keep you." I quipped. I wanted him to just go away.

"You're not keeping me. You couldn't if you tried. I'm right where I wanna be girlie."

Oh snap! This guy was a fucking arse-hole. There just _had_ to be something wrong with him. However, his looks wasn't one of them, that's for sure. Was my mouth actually watering?

I couldn't stop my eyebrows from narrowing, and I scrunched up my lips. I wanted to shout at him, throw a tirade of abuse but I wasn't stupid. He was the one acting strange, and I knew exactly how to deal with bullies like this prick. I just kept it quiet, and tried to hit him with truth. Break through his barrier of arrogance.

"Hey. You're the one that approached me. You're being really rude!"

"I like you." he shrugged his shoulders.

"You've got a real funny way of showing it mister"

That's when I watched his grin turn to something feral. Something animal!

And who the hell was I kidding? He was bloody fabulous-looking. He had hazel eyes, hooded by wild man-eyebrows. And facial hair. Damn, he had facial hair that rocked my senses. He actually made me tingle! Part of his beard trickled his neck too, and his top lip was gently touched with his completed man-face. Jesus I wanted to touch him.

"Oh but baby, I'd really love to show ya'"

And there it was.

My groin heated and my belly felt like it'd just driven over a bridge at breakneck speed. And he'd called me Baby! English didn't do that. Quite clearly this guy wasn't English but damn, I actually swooned.

I gulped. I didn't know what to say.

"Cat got ya' tongue?" he asked whilst smirking like the fucking devil.

"No." I blanched.

"You never had a guy lay it down like that before?"

"I'm not telling you what _any_ guy has done to me. I mean said to me. Fuck, you're making me twist my words." I admitted, and then wanted to smack myself upside the head for even admitting that. Who says that?

**JASON**

"The names Jason." I offered. Bracing my elbows on the table, I learned forward and outstretched my hand. She was blushing and fuck, I kinda liked that.

I watched as she hesitantly extended her arm and as soon as I clasped her tiny little mitt, I wrapped my fingers around and turned the back of her hand upward. I ducked my head and kept my eyes on hers. My lips kissed into the top of her fingers, just below her knuckles and I felt how warm her skin was.

"S-Stevie" she returned with a stutter. That was nice.

I already knew her name of course, but I realised, almost unexpectedly, that it sounded so much sweeter from her own lips. She was no boy, that's for sure.

"Wanna get out of here?" I asked, still gripping her hand mid-air over the table.

"Err... what?" She almost screeched.

I laughed, letting her hand go. It was worth a shot.

"Relax. Just tryin' to speed up the process. You can stop drinkin' now. I might look like an asshole but I prefer my women to participate."

"Um, excuse me?" she blinked rapidly. I was enjoying this.

Uh. Oh. Maybe I was being too forward? Her nostrils flared. How was I to know British biker chicks didn't lay down like this. It didn't matter though. I had to keep her in my sights now that I'd found her, so she could be as coy as she liked. I was getting off on it, in fact.

I knew her name was Stevie Cash. I knew she meant something to Teddy. But I had no idea she was this reserved. I really needed to make contact State side – find out what the fuck I was up against. I'd been told by Kurt she was important. And that Death's Dogs could be after her. Yet, she seemed to hold no candle for the outlaw life. Maybe I was wrongly presuming she was a biker chick. I couldn't understand any other reason for her being so important, if it wasn't that.

I'd made my mind up. Tomorrow, I'd make contact with Rhino. Fuck, I missed home just thinking about that old bastard. He was running shit in Ted's absence. And I did promise I'd call once I'd found her. I just had to handle her now. Maybe Kurt would be pissed with me for going over his head, but this shit was just too slow for me. If they wanted me involved in the action, there really needed to be some fucking action in the first place. Right now, all that had happened in the two months I'd been here was the damned hoodie wearing Dog from earlier. That shit was pathetic! Back home guns would have been drawn already.

My dick had great ways of speeding the process up, though. He liked Stevie a whole lot, so the quicker I helped to squash this shit with the Dogs, the sooner I could be on my merry way and boning the next best chick I came across. The rationale on whether Stevie was fair game was getting harder and harder. I wasn't so sure she was easy pickings. I needed to call Kurt in, only since the contact from the Dog tonight had been the only contact registered, I figured he needed to make plans for extra cover. Fuck, I was conflicted with her importance though, and I'd already spun the fact Kurt was either hiding shit, or he didn't know as much as he should. There was no way she was low on the totem pole. The request for her safety came straight from the top dog, there was definitely something more to this babysitting gig.

I, on the other hand, needed to get a fucking grip. I had fucking instructions to follow, and none of which involved my dick. At least, that's what I kept telling myself.

"Jesus. You're wound up tight. I'm only kiddin' around babe. Unless... you want to that is?" I laughed.

"What exactly do you expect me to say?" she said.

Her smile was nervous, and I felt a little bad then. She looked hurt, like I'd run over her favourite toy. And then she said.

"If you're looking for a good time. You need to move on. If you want to talk, then I can do that. Just stop acting like an arrogant bastard."

I narrowed my eyes at her. I couldn't not. She'd just called me arrogant, and maybe I was, but this chick... hold up. She had more to say. I watched as she sucked in another breath to continue her assumptions.

"And you can quit staring at me like that. If you don't like what people have to say about you, then don't approach people that way. You ought 'a be glad you're pretty. Otherwise I'd be bouncing _your_ arse outta here. Now, how d'ya like them apples?"

She was drunk. Tipsy at best. It was the only plausible reason for the gumption she now possessed. And she had the slightest of twinges at the corner of her lips. Was she trying not to laugh? I could play this out; I had game. I wasn't _that_ arrogant. Swiftly I realised that I'd gotten off on the wrong foot with her completely. This girl was teasing me, and whether she knew it or not, I was all fucking game for that.

I pressed a smile, smirking as I lowered myself in the seat. Sitting back, a little bit more relaxed with my approach.

"Your apples look great babe. Nice and juicy, I bet." That did it. I watched as she cackled with laughter and her cheeks went a nice rosy red with her smile reaching her eyes. She smiled like that before. It was her real smile. I liked it much better than her forced grin. Why did I even give a shit?

The air seemed clearer. She sat more comfortably. And I _really_ dug looking at her. Time passed easily, and I was really focused on gathering as much information about her as I could. It didn't take me long to realise I was doing it naturally, and not because I was told to. The chick was pretty cool.

Her shoulder peaked out from her top, a blouse with flowers and butterflies spreading out from the hem – cute shit – and her white bra strap teased her skin. My eyes flicked to it every now and again. I couldn't help it. She saw me looking too. I couldn't work out whether she liked it, or whether she was dying to cover herself up.

There were a lot of things I couldn't figure out with her.

It had been a hell of a lot easier just staying back and watching her. Now, not so much. She was pulling me in. And I wasn't so sure I wanted that. The last thing I needed was another bitch stringing me a long. I loved them and leaved them these days. In fact, I was renowned for it. A brother had a rep to protect. And I had to remember she was a mark. I had a damned job to do. No direct instruction, no foul. No direct instruction, no foul. No direct instruction, no foul. I could keep telling myself that mantra all damned night, but holy fuck, my dick was winning this mental fight.

Tike wandered to the end of the bar, picking up empty glasses and wiping down the beer taps. I observed the bar all night, and there was a reason I sat facing the entire room. A brother kept his back to the wall at all times. Strange places, stranger tides. I needed to keep my wits about me, especially since contact from the Dogs had finally happened. Small interaction, but still it had happened on my watch.

I admired Stevie, even as she slumped over the table to grab Tike's attention. I chuffed a laugh as I eyed Tike's expression too.

"Can I get you anything Nix?" Tike offered over the bar. He seemed amused too, like I did.

"I'm having a great time, Tike. Remind me to come in here more often. This place could use a woman's touch though. You need some colour in the walls or something." she said, flicking her fingers around the air, so damned animated, and cute.

"You got the touch?" I interjected, and she scorched her eyes into mine. Damn. I just _bet_ she had the touch.

She absently licked her bottom lip, and my dick fucking twitch. I watched her grin, and then she flashed her eyes back to Tike.

"You believe this guy Tike...?" she poked her finger toward me, and I blinked with no remorse. "...he thinks he's got all the moves. His sexy face don't count for shit though. It's all about the allure. About the secrecy. He's probably got nothing to back it up with." she giggled.

Tike made a quick exit. I shot him a look that told him so.

"Shit..." I muttered, and shifted in my seat. I blew out a held breath and caught her eye. "...oh baby, you got no idea what I got. If you wanna see it, all you gotta do is say."

I followed it up with action. I had to. It was the only way I could snap her out of it, and see if this game was all front. The drink had certainly loosed her up, she was a little fiery. Fucking hot!

I made the motion to sit back, and I clinched my butt cheeks together so I could push up and reach my hands to my belt buckle. My fingers fiddled and I made an attempt to open my zip. That woke her up, and she splayed her hands out in front of her, grinning as she protested my actions.

"No, no... I'm kidding. I'm kidding." she laughed.

I laughed too, and relaxed back down.

"You can't be sayin' shit like that girlie. Not around a guy like me. I get challenged. I'll throw down."

"Hey, you know what. Stop calling me girlie. I hate it." she scrunched up her nose at me, and I got the weirdest feeling she actually meant it. Like why did I give a shit?

I held my hands up in defence and offered my apologies.

"A'ight. I got it. I got it." I appeased.

The night went on pretty much like it started. She got offended. And I got even. But then, for some reason, I'd always find myself apologising in some way.

I'd been sitting at the table for just over an hour, and thankfully she hadn't worn out my welcome. I could get on with this chick. She was kinda sweet. Addictive! Fuck, I needed my dick sucked!

"So...you like it over here?" she asked, and her smile continued. And she looked relaxed. All of a sudden she looked like she could hold her own. And I really liked that too.

"It's different. Some nice roads out here. Get on the white line with my bike, and it's somethin' special. Could take you for a spin some day. Better sober you up first though" I reminded with a smirk.

"I'm not that drunk buddy. I know exactly what I'm doin'. What I'm sayin'..." I watched as she slurped some more drink. And to be fair, she wasn't that drunk. I just liked teasing her. "...so you think gettin' me to ride bitch will win you some brownie points?"

Bingo! I fucking knew she was a biker bitch.

Suddenly I'd had my fill for the night. And so had she. Knowing she was biker, I had to get away from her. Signals and flashing lights dinged off in my head, and my fucking dick kept twitching too. It didn't help matters that's for sure. I completely ignored her question.

She might have been somebody else's old lady, and I wasn't about to step all over that shit. It was probably why I was detailed to her. She was probably on the lamb, and her old man was pulling in club favour to haul her ass back to him. My mind swam with all sorts of scenarios. None of which ended with me getting a blow job from this chick.

"I think it's time I got you home. Finish up and I'll get you outta here..." I declared. "...I'll make sure you get home in one piece."

**AN**

**Ahhh... I'm excited for you all. I'm loving this story. My head is exploding with the plot lines. I hope you're still enjoying it. **

**Let me know what you think so far... come on, I know you're out there! :) **


	4. Chapter 4

**STEVIE**

"Err, it's only 11pm. I think I can manage another couple of hours before I turn into a pumpkin." I confirmed.

Who was this guy? Ordering me around like – who knew, like what? I'd finally managed to get into a pub – on my own, no less – and it felt like I was being ushered out.

God!

I longed for the days when I was able to sit at a bar, surrounded by friends – by family – and just be left in peace. Or - end up dancing on the corner stage with a bottle of Tequila – that was more likely – and nobody giving two shits about why.

That was the thing. Back in Devon, I could've done that. I could have cried, I could have sang, I could have started a healthy debate and not one of my surrounding buddies would think any less of me. None of them would have pat me on the back and pushed me out the door. Just because they couldn't handle my drama, or whatever the fuck had got me twisted. Most likely James. It was always James.

Nope!

They would have waited for me to pass out cold, probably with tearful cheeks and then they would have carried me to the plush corner sofa. Just after ordering any previous occupants to get the fuck off and leave. I'd have woken up with a blanket covering me too. And almost always, a brother would have been watching over me. Asleep too. But he would've been there nonetheless.

"Pumpkin or not. We're leavin' button nose." he ordered.

"Button nose...?" I scrunched. Was he insulting me, or being cute? The dude was giving me whiplash – he was too hard to figure out. "...I don't think – "

"Now."

"Jesus! Just you wait a God damned minute, who the hell – "

"I ain't waitin'. We're leavin'. I'll take you home. Let's go. Now."

Dumbfounded. I watched as he rose from his seat, and I saw the size of his thighs as they nudged the table top, edging closer to me. Eye level with you know what.

I gulped. I was looking and I couldn't stop. He wasn't wearing leathers after-all, but he _was_ wearing black jeans. A tiny tear in the denim was allowing his skin to peak out on the front of his thigh. Holy Moly! The dude was fine. And really, really pushy! His accent was killing me too!

My bottom lip dropped, as my eyes shot down to his hand reaching out. His fingers circled around the hook of my elbow and I tried to immediately jerk free but his hold was firm. Not rough, or aggressive – just, hard. Manly. Assertive!

"I'm not ready to go home yet..." I muttered, letting myself be manoeuvred out of the booth as I tried to slip my shoes back on. The strap that went around my ankle was now slack, and the tiny little buckle was now underneath my heal. It dug in and it bloody hurt!

"...ouch. Wait..." I was still being rushed. "...I just need – "

"Tike" he addressed, and I looked up with wide eyes, trying to connect with Tike behind the bar. My hair was sweeping in front of my eyes and I blew out a breath to move it. My elbow was still in Jason's palm and it was then I looked up at him. A slight pant in my breath as I was being unnecessarily badgered. Gosh, he was real tall. I was tall too but he had a good 3 inches on me, plus I had my inch heels on.

"I can manage to walk on my own. I'm not that drunk." I sighed, and our eyes penetrated as our bodies bumped together. Something was happening. Something good. Something that touched on recognition for each other.

He had the softest eyelashes too. I was super jealous of those.

"Tike..." he repeated whilst looking at me. And holy hell water, he swept his tongue over his bottom lip. I immediately bit into the inside of my cheek, and I found it _really_ hard to breathe. "... I'm headin' out Tike. Don't forget about those rooms, understood?"

"You got it Wolf. I'll take care of it tomorrow morning."

"What rooms? What Wolf?" I asked, confused. Confused with everything!

We still stared at each other. It was _really_ intense, and awkward. Awkward as hell, for me.

He eventually let my elbow go, and turned into me; his fingers touched very lightly on my hips. All I could do to hold myself up was clutch my arms into my chest and let my forearms touch his torso. He'd gone and chuckled at my questions too. Did he find me that ridiculous?

"That's my business, not yours." he whispered. His head tilted down and I leaned further into him. It felt really, _really_ good.

And this was the moment that his eyes completely changed. Like a complete shift in character, as his index finger lightly tapped my nose; his eyes concentrating so deeply that I was about to slither to the floor as he slowly melted my composure completely.

Oh dear God!

"I-I... um" I really had nothing else to say. Was this really fucking happening?

"Cat got that tongue again, button?" he grinned, and I felt his hands more solidly on my hips. I literally felt the world around me disappear. He was totally out of my league. I was a 6 – 7 at best – and this dude blew straight passed 20. He was off the damn chart of hotness. He fucking smouldered.

I beamed a smile, and for some unknown, fabulous reason, I grew a pair of gigantic balls. It was like I was a different person. A person with guts. A woman with desire. What the fuck was this guy doing to me?

I opened my fisted hands, and gently laid them on his chest. He felt solid, strong and sturdy.

Moving up higher, I rounded my hands onto his shoulders and during the whole movement I watched as he swallowed that awkward dryness that mimicked my own undoing. His body ridged, and taut. That felt great under my hands.

"I wish somethin' did have my tongue." I murmured.

He immediately had a fucking come-back. "Ah, so you _are_ fixin' for a guy tonight?"

That did it.

He was so quick off the mark. I seemed to never have time to recover. And he was so damned _forward_! Why couldn't he have just shut up and kissed me, or something – or anything!

I blushed. I couldn't help it. I thought I could handle him. I thought I could tap into my old confidence, but I was quickly remembering that I was still a shadow of my former self. That sucked balls!

Dropping my hands away from him, I gathered up my bag that had fell between us. I didn't care that he saw my forlorn face. I'd been quickly reminded of how lame I was. I couldn't even flirt anymore. Fuck! Nearly 30 years old, and I think my libido was dead. I was just about ready to call that damned taxi. Tonight was fucking over.

**JASON**

I was fucked.

If she was somebody else's old lady, those bastards really should have fucking told me. Because they hadn't. So things were slowly becoming clearer. If they never told me the details, how was I supposed to make an informed decision. Yeah, that would work. I'd convinced myself, quite easily it seemed.

She was getting fucked tonight. She'd smelt fantastic! Her hands touching me! And those damned cheeks that blushed at every word I said. She was fast becoming my new play thing!

I walked her to the door, and I was pretty certain she hadn't worked out my end game – just yet. She fumbled in her bag as I placed my hand on the small of her back. And I'd been given the opportunity to search her curvy frame without her seeing. All along her side profile, and back up her legs to the perfectly rounded ass. She was a pretty tall chick too. I'd never really gone for tall women before but there was something about her legs. Long, and I just fucking bet her thighs could crush the hell outta me. I couldn't fucking wait. My dick was semi hard at just the thought. Tonight's prospects were looking superb!

Then, her damn hand pulled out her cell phone from the bottomless pit of her handbag. Oh fuck no! She wasn't going to call a cab. No way!

"Yeah. You won't need that." I confirmed. Taking the phone from her hand, and slipping it into my back jeans pocket.

"What the hell do you think you're doing? Give me back my phone." she argued, and thankfully we'd made it out onto the forecourt of the pub.

"Rela – "

"Don't tell me to relax mister!" she shouted and I was quicker than I thought I'd be. She'd darted her fist out and she'd fully intended on landing it somewhere in the vicinity of my chest. I snatched at her wrist and gripped it hard before she'd made any real contact.

"Don't do that." I dead-panned.

"What do you want from me?" she squeaked. She suddenly looked real small and feeble. The fire burning behind my eyes subdued the effort it had taken for her to stand up to me. I had that effect on most people.

And I saw her bottom lip quiver. She tried so fucking hard to hide it, and no matter how hard _I_ tried, it softened me to see her that way. Still holding her wrist, I saw how she eyed my grip; my hand was huge compared to her sturdy twigs.

"Give me your time sweetheart. Keep those little guns locked down though, yeah?" I smiled, and I knew it had reached my eyes because I meant for it to. I really had no intention of harming her.

What the fuck was going on here? I hadn't meant to upset her. In fact I'd wanted the complete opposite. Thankfully she smiled back, and rubbed her lips together, her eyes dropping away from mine as I let her go. She searched the floor, and I wondered what the fuck she looked for. I couldn't keep her damned eyes on mine, and it frustrated the hell outta me. I wanted to look at her. She was fucking gorgeous! It'd pissed me off that the night sky had hidden away her smooth as silk skin. She was definitely getting fucked with the light on.

**STEVIE**

"I need to go home" I breathed.

"No you don't. I got a room back here. Let's go talk some more."

I laughed. He was too straight-forward for me. I couldn't handle his determination, and I wasn't really good enough for him. He could do way better than me, and because I knew that, I knew it was a pity fuck he offered. God that was upsetting!

"Um, I'm not rea – "

It happened so quick, and I wasn't even looking his way when I tried to explain that I wasn't really into one night stands anymore. His hand had snatched the back of my head, and I sucked up my bottom lip quick enough just before his lips fell down onto mine.

Holy Mother of God.

He was so fast. And I dwarfed his big attitude toward kissing. He really took control and I struggled so hard not to open my mouth. But when he'd swiftly moved his lips off mine, I immediately opened my mouth and searched his face in total shock. It was a rookie mistake. I'd even done it times myself, but he got me good.

As soon as I'd locked eyes with him, it'd made my chest tighten and I'd instinctively gripped onto his biceps as he latched his lips back onto my now open mouth. This time it was a whole lot of different. His smirk tore at my emotions and I didn't know whether it was because I presented something so easy for him, or whether he just found me funny in general. It also confused the fuck out of me because I battled with the reasons as to why I gave a fuck. He was the one kissing me. I didn't provoke this. Maybe he couldn't stop grinning because he really did find me attractive? I really didn't know.

And Jesus hell-fire, his tongue was so soft my mind was slowly being put on the back burner and my body's motor started to purr. I kissed him back as if what I was doing was normal for me. I couldn't actually control myself. His arms felt great, and he stepped further into me with his fingers tangling into the bottom of my tied back hair. Naturally, I circled my arm around his neck and my other hand stroked to his shoulder, rubbing softly at his chest. My fingers teasing his collarbone because I couldn't get e-fucking-nough of him.

I moaned. He deepened the kiss, his tongue forcing it's way inside and swallowing me whole. My panties heated and a dribble of excitement bubbled from my lower lips. God this was such a rush!

"That's it baby. Let me in." he goaded.

God, that was corny but I freaking loved it.

"Shit..." I mumbled. "...I've gotta get outta here." I said, still clutched onto his shoulders, the front of my body touching his, and his belt buckle pushed just at the top of my apex. The heels that I wore allowed our bodies to match up perfectly. Damn, was this really happening?

"Fuck! You got the sweetest lips babe"

"I bet you say that to all the girls" I laughed.

"C'mon, let's get outta here. What you got to lose button?"

"Not my virginity if that's what you're hoping" I giggled.

He barked out a laugh, standing up straight and I found myself going with him. Latching onto his body as he pulled me closer. It felt comfortable. It felt right. As if my life depended on it.

"You gotta be kiddin' me...?" he said to the sky, and I grinned up at him. "...I ain't interested in that mess darlin'."

I immediately blushed.

"You shy?" he asked.

"No. Why?"

"These little cheeks tell me otherwise." he stroked both my cheeks with his thumbs, cupping my face as I squeezed tighter on the tops of his biceps. Of course, I reddened more.

"Well I guess I'm a little rusty." I confessed.

"Ah fuck, baby..." he groaned, and his face twisted up in mock frustration. "...you gotta let me in. You're killin' me. That what you want? I'll lay down and play dead if it'll get you to admit you want this too?"

I giggled, and he smiled. His hazel eyes were intense, they sometimes looked blue, maybe green – so hooded by his eyebrows, it was hard to tell, and he'd looked kinda evil but playful at the same time. A mystery. Narrowing my own eyes, I looked at a scar going through his left eyebrow, and he said nothing in return. Just watched me, watching him.

"How did you get this scar?" I asked, and touched a finger to the faint line that separated his eyebrow into two sections. A few strays hairs sprouted into different directions because of it.

I studied him, briefly unafraid of my massive low self-esteem, and it was then I noticed the continuation of the scar. Like little drops of tears, and a slight slither of silver in the skin pigmentation just under his eye at the very top of his cheekbone. It looked like the world's smallest train track deep under his skin.

His warm breath hitched as my eyes concentrated on his skin. He was stunning. And it was a hard word to associate him with, but it was true. He really was. The snaking of his arm around my lower back caused my chest to squeeze into his and he pulled me tighter than I'd ever been held before. His eyes closed and he buried his face into my neck as I wrapped my arms around his shoulders. My own face was forced into the muscled grove of his shadowed neck and he smelt surprisingly clean. Freshly washed. Nice.

Oh Shit! He'd pulled me tight to his body for a damned good reason.

I felt it. His other arm wrapped around me and he gripped me within a bear hug that had me feeling every lump and bump his body offered. His cock was so hard, and my pussy instantly clenched with a desire that fed my once fleeting confidence. Only because his protruding member nestled so conveniently into the heat of my own arousal. My heart pounded with a want I thought long left me.

"I'll tell you about the scar. If you tell me how wet you are right now?" he mumbled into my neck, his lips drifting over my skin and his face hair reminding me of the man that held me. A real man.

**JASON**

The indecision on her face was slowly ebbing away. I could see it as I pulled back from our embrace, but kept my hands on her hips. One of which was on display as my hand snaked under the hem of her top and gently squeezed her skin. I knew that if I continued to keep that contact I had a chance of swaying her. I just knew it. The skin on skin contact was fucking electric.

"I won't bite." I added. And I didn't know why I was so damned determined. It was the challenge; it had to be. It was always the challenge, wasn't it?

"Not unless I ask you to, right?" she asked.

The chick wasn't even joking. She had meant to be teasing but her eyes twinkled with something of concern. The poor bitch didn't trust me much. Her look almost doubted me.

I hated that.

"You call the shots. What _you_ say goes. What _I_ want never trumps it. I promise you that."

She seemed more sceptical with my honesty, than scared of my strength compared to her. She must have known if I'd wanted something she didn't want to give, I could have taken it anyway – if I was _that_ _kind_ of asshole. But I wasn't. She was ninety-nine percent up for this fuck-fest. And that excited me more and more, but I hadn't missed the pain in her eyes, and the way they held something much deeper. Something much more desperate, and raw. It intrigued the fuck outta me. And if it wasn't for my raging hard-on, I might have given a shit about that look but this was about to get really interesting. I couldn't afford for the conversation to change. I didn't want to blow this chance. I'd not fucked in weeks!

Her face was mere inches from mine, the eagerness to kiss her again was strong as I swept my gaze all over her flawless skin. I came back to her eyes full circle, and they penetrated the hell outta me.

"You realise I'm not that drunk to know you're way outta my league. But drunk enough to let this happen. Right?" she said.

That raised my hackles. I wanted to fuck, not spend the night stroking this girl's low self-esteem but here I was. Face screwed up in complete distaste at the utter bullshit she spewed. Where the fuck did this girl get her mirrors from? She was hot as hell! She ranked high. She turned fucking heads. She'd turned mine like a damned owl the first time I saw her. What a lucky bastard I was. Sent to watch this little devil in angel wings.

"Oh man..." I growled, shaking my head in disbelief, refusing to even entertain her comment. "...I am gonna fuck some sense into you woman. We doin' this or what?" I asked, gripping hard at her body; my hands now moving underneath her armpits. I was fucking winning!

"Where is your room?" she muttered; embarrassed but she really had no need to be.

"Fuck yes!" I roared and immediately lifted her off the floor. Up toward the sky like I lifted a damned trophy, before heaving her over my shoulder.

For a tall girl, she was still ridiculously light. Her squeal of protest echoed in the forecourt and I slapped her ass as I marched off to the side of the pub. My dick was extremely happy with this outcome. I already felt myself giving it the pep talk. The show was mother-fucking on!

Tike's Free House had a driveway to the side, it was maybe at least two car lanes in width as it shot straight out into the darkened night. No lights paved the way but I knew where I headed, and it didn't take long before the outhouse appeared in front of us.

I put her down to her feet once I reached the door, and I watched as she struggled to catch her bearings. She clung to my arm, her hands circled my bicep as she focused her eyes in the darkness behind us. She was a little jittery and I made a mental note of it. I was still detailed to her after-all, and I always kept tabs on peoples weaknesses. It was all part and parcel of my job, I guess. And she was still under my protection.

"I didn't realise there were rooms behind this place. It's nice." she surveyed. Walking around the room, eyeing the bed mischievously as she put distance between us.

The room _was nice_ actually. Nothing special, just American motel standard but in England, and it had a great bed. Tike must've bought it new recently.

"You wanna drink?"

"Oh yes please" she almost shouted.

Nervous! Poor bitch. And I chuckled in thought, because it had certainly sealed her fate. There was something about an innocence in women that turned me the fuck on. I was pretty convinced most guys dug it, but shit, I had a real thing for bringing out the bad in my women. I wanted to corrupt the hell outta her. Get her wild side raging, because every girl had that streak, right? You just gotta know how to tease it, and then the games begun. It was all part of the rush. I fucking loved it.

She chugged on the beer I'd passed her way, and I stood close as her big eyes latched to mine. She still tried to gulp it down as I took it away with a laugh.

"Easy babe. I want you awake for this."

"I'm a little nervous..." she winced. "... I don't even like beer." she smiled sheepishly.

"No shit. When's the last time you fucked?"

"Oh my god..." she blinked at me, and her cheeks blushed again. "... you can't ask a girl that question."

"Oh I can..." I laughed more. "... and I just did." I smirked.

"Yeah, well. I'm not answering" she finalised and stepped passed me.

I caught the slight smugness; the audacity of my frankness etched on her face and it called to me like the damned mother-ship. I snatched at her upper arm and pulled her back but quickly changed direction as I pushed her toward the bed. It was rough, but she had to understand what she was in for. I wasn't a man that handled roses very well. I'd certainly be the thorn in her side, and she was going to love every second of it.

"Don't matter anyway babe. I want in no matter what." I growled and shoved her on the bed.

Her ass bounced and her legs instinctively pinged open, and then quickly shut up shop. Fuck, I wished she'd had a skirt on. It would have been perfect to dive down, but she wore cropped trousers that stuck to her thighs instead. Thankfully her blouse had fallen off her shoulder more, and the bounce on the bed had raised the front, so her belly was now on display. Her skin was lightly tanned and she quickly spread her hand over the flesh; a poor attempt to cover her undoing.

"Don't hide away button. I'm gonna lick all over that silky skin." I declared; not even looking at her face as I gripped her ankle and straightened her leg down on the bed, tugging her toward me.

Her knees prised open slightly and I couldn't stop the fire behind my eyes. Fuck. I wanted to devour her as I followed her onto the bed and put my other hand to the opposite knee, spreading her legs wide open. Her eyes were getting bigger by the second but I watched as she looked down my body and drank in what I offered. The dilation of her pupils was unmissable. I leaned over, making sure my jeans covered cock pressed directly into her core before she even got a chance to deny me.

Fuck she was hot!

I kissed her, and shit, she kissed me back. She was on fire. Literally. I felt the damn flames lick up my thighs as I felt the roll of her pelvis. She relaxed her legs, and spread wider for me. I was nothing short of dry humping my way to an orgasm, but in actual fact, it was her. She was the one driving this show, and well, I kinda liked it.

"Oh shit" she purred. One arm slung around my neck, whilst the other one roamed down my side, clutching my arm, and then touching the side of my face. She was all over me. Her hand felt like fucking flames kissing my skin. I needed more. I needed skin on skin.

Quickly I raised myself up to my knees, sitting back on my haunches as I flung both my arms over my head and gathered up the back of my tee. She was briefly out of sight as I dragged the material over my head and tossed it across the room. Strands of my hair flew around me as I gave the dishevelled look a new meaning. Chicks usually dug it for some reason. But for me, it was nearly that time of year that I cut the fucking lot off.

"Oh bloody hell" she sighed, and her bottom lip was being attacked by her nipping teeth as she reached her finger tips to touch my stomach.

"You like...?" I asked, smirking with satisfaction of her clear appreciation. But I didn't give her time to actually answer, I wasn't that fucking vain. I was in shape because I had to be. "... your turn..." I nodded down at her chest. "...and don't be shy about it. I can see your little nipples already."

Ping! There went her cheeks blushing like a damned nun in a whorehouse. I'd never tire of that.

"You'll have to help me." she squeaked.

That I could do.

Still sitting back, my ass touching my heels, I gripped at her elbows and pulled her upright. Her face was level with my chest as I quickly gathered up her blouse and whipped it over her head. I had no idea where her top landed because my eyes were transfixed on her whiter than white bra. It looked fucking great on her tanned skin! The way it held her tits; nice big tits that could easily fit into my hands and then-some. I was chomping at the bit to get it off her.

"I'd rather keep my bra on if – "

"Fuck no! Take it off. Now." I cut in, almost immediately before she denied my view of those tits she'd wanted to hide. This chick was crazy if she thought I was some two-pump boy wonder. This was lasting all damned night, and I needed tits to play with for the duration of her stay.

Pushing her down on the bed, I kissed over her chest, around her collarbone and up to her lips. Painfully ignoring her taut nipples that poked through her lacy bra. My forearm held me slightly away from her but my hand cupped the back of her head, fingers clutching at her hair. My other hand kneaded at her thigh, hip and then eagerly at the skin underneath her bra covered tits. I felt her arm, it was caught under my side that leaned most of my weight. She wiggled for movement and then her fingers circled the top of my jeans as my tongue surged passed her lips. My thumb tracing under her bra, gently touching the plump roundness of her soft skinned tits.

Fuck, I wanted this.

And she'd been hesitant at first, but fuck me, she'd wanted it now. Her hips still rolled, trying with success to grind her pussy against me. I was hard as fucking nails. Even the way she lifted her head toward me, unable to disconnect our lips for even a second rest before she clawed back at me. Her tongue was so soft, gentle but needy as she moaned into my mouth.

"You're such a good kisser" she sighed, and I instantly grinned down at her. Edging away as she tried to kiss me again – turned on more as I watched her try bite into me.

"Yeah? I like kissin' you baby. You know what else I like kissin'?"

"N-no"

"Let me show you."

**AN**

**It's getting there, right? I hope you're enjoying it. **

**Please let me know what you think. I love your feedback. **


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